


Cruelest of Winters

by makakama



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:42:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makakama/pseuds/makakama
Summary: Called on a mission to protect the life of 'Lord Death' of Scotia's second son, Sir Solomon Evans, favored knight of the Kingdom Swansea, happily obliges. But he gets more than he bargained for; a full-stop war, a few near death expirences, and more importantly, a fight for the hand of famed Lady Makika Alabarn. He does not yet know what the bigger challenge will come to be, helping to defeat Lady Arachne's vast and loyal army, or taming that fickle cat to win Alabarn's love and the approval of her deranged father.Medieval Fantasy/ Shape-shifter Maka AU!(Full disclosure: the shape shifting cat plot was stolen from a tumblr prompt, you've probably seen it before.)
Relationships: Black Star/Death the Kid, Death the Kid/Liz Thompson, Maka Albarn/Soul Eater Evans, Marie Mjolnir/Franken Stein, Nakatsukasa Tsubaki/Liz Thompson, Spirit Albarn | Death Scythe & Blair
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. December - 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, please enjoy this huge conglomerate of run-on sentences.

Taking trips to the fabled Land of Scotia, specifically the DWMA Castle, were always a favorite way to spend holidays for young nobleman Solomon Evans, now known as Sir Solomon Evans of Swansea on account of his high status as a royal knight-for-hire. The land is one of bounty and equality; there exist no street vagrants or beggars, no starving peasants, and most strangely of all to contemporaries of the time; women could own land and act entirely independent of a husband or father, unless in the royal family. Much to the despair of his parents, Solomon thought that was quite alright, splendid even. He saw no reason for poverty when the royal families had enough to go around. And he certainly saw no reason for men to rule women with an iron fist, either. These were sentiments his mother and father did not agree with. In their kingdom, Swansea, the poor stayed poor and the rich stayed rich, and the women were little more than property to aquire and trade; the king and queen saw to it that the state of affairs always stayed this way, as they thought this was the natural order set in place by God himself. But Solomon was growing evermore tired day after day of the rampant poverty and misogyny. Thus, he was more than pleased to be called upon the land for the first time since he was many years younger. 

So he traveled, perfectly content, yet knowing little of his quest. The young knight was simply told by his father, 'Lord Death requires your assistance in protecting the life of his young heir. An attempt was made to end such life; and so you and the knight Black Star will make the journey. You will do what the Lord wishes of you, and we will be paid handsomely.'

It made perfect sense to Solomon as to why he specifically was chosen; he was known to be the best bearer of a sword across the entire continent in which he lived, and his family and the royal family of Scotia had an alliance to maintain. First his favorite Lady of the house, Elizabeth Thomason, was entered into an arranged marriage with the second heir of the Death family; and naturally, he is now being summoned to preserve said man's life. Solomon meant the prince no harm; he was in fact, in high favor to the man. However, he was rather happy to have the chance to see Elizabeth again. They had only been in correspondence through occasional letters for three years; he has not seen the woman once in that time. 

Elizabeth was a fine woman. She knew and appreciated the beauty of fine culture and music, she read the finest literature, she was sharp as a longsword and could argue circles around any man or woman who challenged her informed opinions. She was like a sister to Solomon. It was hard for him to believe that just five years ago he was prompted to end her and her sister's spree of thievery and terror upon his land. He knew from the moment he saw her that she and her sister, Patricia Thomason, did not belong in rags, fighting for food and places to sleep. It took convincing yes, but he was determined that the girls be taken in by his family as ladies-in-waiting. Soon after, they became much more. Like family. It was such a terrible blow to have her and Patricia shipped to Scotia, their only life purpose being to produce an heir for some careless royal man. 

It was a terrible blow for the young women too. How it hurt Solomon to see Elizabeth cry and cry for her lost freedom. 

"Oh, why was I not hanged for my crimes," she sobbed into his shoulder in the dead of night when no one could hear, "surely this fate is worse! Patricia does not know what's to come, but when a Death royal is found for her too, how she'll mourn!" 

He didn't know what to say other than, "Prince Deimos is a kind man, Elizabeth. I knew him many years ago. He will tend to your needs well." 

She smiled a bittersweet smile, illuminated glumly by one burning candle, nearly breaking the young man's heart, "You'll understand when you're older, Soul. My body no longer belongs to me. As a woman, that is a fate worse than an eternity in hell." 

But oh, how they both were wrong. Six months later, Solomon received a coded letter that took him approximately a week to decipher. He expected to read that she was pregnant and miserable, desiring nothing short of death itself. But he did not. He instead read a letter of rejoice. 

_Oh Soul,_

_How I have found a new freedom in this kingdom of the family Death! I was married six months ago, and here I sit, writing to you, my body and soul still my own. You were right, my husband, the Prince Deimos, is a true and pure man. He saw to it there was no rigamarole the night of our marriage. Just the ceremony, there was. Now, I know you are still a young man, but living in a royal family surely you know what happens the night of a marriage. Tens of prying eyes watch two become one, the consummation if you are privy to what that means, but not this night or any other! The king and his son are quite the eccentric pair of men, and so, not one soul in the royal court opposed Deimos and his decision 'for the sake of our holy privacy.' For that I am so grateful. We play quite the part, a prince and his princess trying their best to conceive an heir to take the place of the king or prince, God forbid something happen to them! Deimos understands how badly I dread having my body torn apart by a son or daughter I have no choice in carrying and will take no part in it; and thank everything that is good for that. Now you know my secret, Soul. I see it fit to give only to you and Patricia. See to it you destroy this letter, and that you never let even one ear hear you speak of it._

_Lady Elizabeth Death._

It was so much like her to be so wordy in a coded letter, but he was happy to hear the good news nonetheless. Even if it meant he had to read through things he never wanted to think about for even one mere second. 

Word spreads fast through the land, however, and three years without the birth of an heir is a long time to go. Rumors grew like elms. Some said one from the pair had to be cursed with infertility. Others said the royal pair were participating in their fare share of affairs with mistresses for Deimos and men of the court for Elizabeth. Elizabeth had told him in another wordy coded letter that while no affairs were currently present, Deimos cared not what she did in her free time so long as she did not directly get caught with anyone else, as doing so would ruin the ruse of their 'normal' marriage. 

But true to the nature of people, speculation still ran wild. It seemed like everyone participated, even the macho, egotistical knight that Solomon was paired with for this quest; who he knew in his years of friendship with, was not one to gossip. It was 'beneath' him. 

Trees whizzed past him and Black Star in heaps of green as the latter man tried to guess why Deimos and Elizabeth were never with child. 

"You know, my best guess is that something's not quite right with the 'royal equipment,' if you catch my meaning. They say it's always the woman, but I don't think that's true. It could be either; and you know what they say about Deimos. If half of it's true, he should at least have a couple of goblins on the down-low," he said, after much thought.

"I don't think it's always the woman, either. But if you want to know so badly, why not figure it out from the man himself? You talk a big game, but I've never seen you bag a prince before. Highest you've gone in the court is a jester," Solomon laughed, pleased with himself. He and Black Star lived for insulting each other. Their friendship thrived upon it. 

"Never a prince," the man scoffed, "do you want to see my gloriously sculpted body burning at the stake?"

Solomon was sad to say he had a point. Homosexuality was not strictly forbidden even in his kingdom, but if word got around that one was in fact a homosexual, the prevailing thought was that such a state of being was a crime against God. A crime that was paid dearly for; a crime that many were burned alive for. 

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence. That was until, the two men arrived at the sprawling castle. There was a commotion; tens of men were chasing after a zipping beige dot, from what Solomon could make out, screaming things like, "Get the cat for the Lady's hand! Kill it if you have to! Move, move, move!" 

A commanding blip of raven and white hair, bobbing up and down, stole the attention away from the spectacle. Strangely enough, it was Prince Deimos, moving slowly towards them with the aid of a cane. 

"Pay no mind to them, they are merely responding to the proposition for Lady Makika's hand from Spirit Alabarn. It's been two years, you will be seeing no man catch that cat today," there was rare smile on his face, and a twinkle in the man's honey, gold-ringed eyes that suggested he knew something the other two men did not. Solomon was not concerned over this information, rather, he was concerned for the man's well-being. 

"Did you not suffer a grave injury but two weeks ago, Sir? What are you doing out and about," He asked as he and Black Star unmounted their horses. 

He put a hand on his hip. Pale fingers stood out against pitch black velvet, "God and the good doctor of this court are seeing to it that I heal properly and in a timely manner. And my father is busy; he cannot greet and see you in. So it must be me." If Solomon knew anything of Deimos Death, it was that the man took on the role of being his father's heir with grave responsibility. He took everything with grave responsibility, really. 

"Well don't you worry, your two gods and saviors are here! Solomon and I take your father's request for help in earnest! You'll never have to fear with a star as big as me around," what an introduction. Only fit for Black Star. 

Solomon was beginning to apologise for the man's annoying bravo when Deimos cut him off, "Won't I now? I rightly say thank you knights, for protection while I can heal this wound," he smiled a thin smile, "but after that period is over, God help us. We are mobilizing against Arachne. And you, good knights, will help me and this court see a victory through. My father will have it no other way." He looked at the cane and at the floor. Solomon's heart sank, this was more than he bargained for. He thought he'd been volunteered as a body guard, not a warrior. 

"Yes sir! Yes sir! We will do as we are told. Now could you see us in? My legs are on fire from the ride here," Black Star has the best chops of any man Solomon has ever come in to contact, being so direct with a member of a royal family. 

Not to his suprise, however, Deimos apologized, "I'm sorry for the chatter, come this way." That's the kind of man he was. 

The castle itself was eerily quiet. Deimos showed them to their respective rooms. Before he retired to rest, he assured them that he would see to it that they were made to be as comfortable as possible. He left them, walking as slowly and carefully as he could to his quarters. 

"I really am surprised he's not bed-ridden," Solomon remarked as he waltzed into Black Star's space, "I was told by my mother that he took a blade to the abdomen. How one survives such a thing, I don't know." 

"Me neither," the man mused, "but hopefully he heals up soon. I suppose I will have to rethink my 'no prince' rule," just when Solomon thought the man was truly wishing for someone's well-being, "he's caught my eye, so far." 

"Be careful," the other man intoned, "you know the risk." 

"I'd risk it all for a man with such a set of legs and hair as lustrous as that," Black Star laughed. 

"Calm your lust just a bit, Star, at least when I'm present. He is more or less my brother-in-law," this conquest was not one Solomon wanted to actually hear about, outside of a good joke. 

"Psssh," the man let out the noise with a roll of the eyes, "you're just jealous." 

"Sure, Star." 

Their little dispute was cut off by a feminine voice, wonderfully familiar to Solomon, saying, "You saw it fit to arrive without telling the Lady of the House you were here? How positively **rude** Solomon, **how positively rude!"**

"Shouldn't your husband have told you **Lady Elizabeth?"** Solomon teased back, much to the dismay of Black Star; who didn't know that's how the two normally got along. 

"I'd have half a mind not lopping your head right off for talking to me like that, Evans," she giggled, all fake seriousness gone, "and how rude of me not to introduce myself and give my thanks to our other good knight. What is your name?" 

"Black Star, ma'am," that was the first time Solomon had heard the man be respectful all day, but Elizabeth was a woman whose mere presence demanded respect if one didn't know her well. 

"Well, it is great meeting you," she bowed, "now I'll be taking my favorite knight away, but you just make yourself comfortable." 

"Yes ma'am," the man waved as Elizabeth lead the other man away. 

"We have **much** to discuss, Soul," she looked at him through grave, bagged eyes, "much that not even I could code well enough to send to you through writing." 

His heart fell yet again. Just what was he in for, with this quest? 


	2. December - 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long, boring conversation and a first glimpse of some Soul and Maka action. : )

"Come," Lady Elizabeth beckoned the young knight to to her bed chambers, "it will be best if we can be alone for this discussion." 

"Isn't Deimos in there?" 

"No," she laughed, a light behind her eyes that Solomon had been missing for years shined through, "this chamber is strictly mine, for when I wish to be left alone." 

That was unheard of to the knight; he soon found himself having trouble wrapping his head around the idea. No married couple slept separately. Especially a couple so 'terribly desperate' to have a child. Surely that would ruin the show, and they would be caught red-handedly lying. 

"I know what you're thinking," she shut the door behind her, "I don't sleep here every night. I simply cannot do anything that would arouse the suspicion of Father Justin, the poor, stupid man. Can you imagine: he prays for an heir _every night_ Deimos and I spend together! _Right outside_ our chamber door! It drives the poor prince mad, but all I can do is laugh. I'm sure he must think that we are hard at work," she laughed as she sat down in a large, exquisitely upholstered chair. 

"If only you hadn't had to lie, you could call yourself the Virgin Queen. That worked wonders for Queen Mary of Wyton. Do you remember her?" 

"Yes," the woman dead-panned, "she was a always the life of the party before she was beheaded. And quite bold of you to assume _even then_ I could hold that title, you unseemly little thing. I had my fair share of fun before you went and plopped me into your castle, you know." 

"Baaaack in my daaay we haa-" Soul had begun to make his favorite joke about how 'old' Elizabeth was before she cut him off by throwing a small pillow at him. 

"I'm afraid it's time to get serious, my knight. We have a sticky situation on our hands. Did your mother or father tell you _exactly_ why you are here?" Her face was grave; far too weathered and sad to belong to such a lively woman.

"No, just that the prince ran into an incident with a longsword. That is all," he was afraid to hear what Elizabeth had to recount. The knight did not know how deeply this situation ran, and he almost did not wish to. 

"Asura, previously first-in-line to the throne was the perpetrator. We have reason to believe he has fled to the protection of Lady Arachne. For this, Lord Death is insistent we destroy them both. Surely you know how impossible that sounds?" 

"Do the citizens know?" The last thing anyone in the castle needed was thousands of panicked residents causing more chaos than necessary, or any chaos, ideally.

"No," she tensed up in her seat as Soul's heart began to sink for what felt like the hundredth time that day, "the poor idiots think that Lord Death is on a crusade against enchantresses, wizards, and magic users of any kind. Which, to be fair, is partially true. We believe Arachne is using magic to aide in her destructive tendencies. The Lord has become increasingly more suspicious of magic as of late, and he intends to stamp all of it out after he takes care of Arachne." 

_"All magic?"_ He was incredulous. Magic was the crux of innovation. To wipe out all magic was to wipe out all advancement. And for the sake of revenge? Soul could not believe such a thing. He knew Lord Death to be somewhat of a tyrant, but to a reasonable extent, if there was such a thing. However, with this stunt, the man had to be insane. 

"And magic users," She reiterated, "those who are not useful to throne, of course." 

"Like who?" He was genuinely curious; he knew of no one in the castle who had any magical prowess. 

"The doctor, Stein," she crossed her arms, not meaning to look defensive, but doing so anyway. 

"Him? What kind of magic can he possibly perform?" This confused Soul, as far as he knew Stein was simply a good physician; one who had no need to rely on magic.

Elizabeth sighed, eyes downcast and refusing to meet Soul's own, "Necromancy," she whispered. 

All thoughts stopped dead in their tracks when she'd said that. No human being alive could perform such a feat successfully, and if they tried the results were always disastrous, from what little Soul had heard and seen. And necromancy was the only form of magic that was actually outlawed. If anyone was caught practicing, or merely just studying, the dark art their fate was was a terrible one. Only the worst execution methods were used for necromancers. So why was Lord Death letting such a thing go unchecked within the confines of his own castle?

"Who did he reanimate?" Many other questions swam in the knight's consciousness, but that was the only one he could firmly grasp in its importance.

Elizabeth closed in on herself further, refusing to answer the question. Her eyes sparkled with unfallen tears. 

"Please, Elizabeth. I need to know the whole story if I can even begin to attempt my quest," he hated seeing her cry, but he needed the whole truth, and he knew she would deliver. 

"First it was Sid, one of the Lord's favorite staff members. For months we expected the man to drop dead again, for his skin was a terrible, sickly blue hue; and he slept for days on end. But he was fine. To this day he serves the castle. But," she choked on her words, taking a moment to gather herself again, " _I'm scared, Soul._ You know what happens to those who have been reanimated by spells." 

"Who else?" He noticed that she's said 'first.' He didn't want to press the woman further, but he needed to know who to look out for. His mission was to protect the castle, and those who have been brought back from the dead tended to get restless, and resorted to acting violently and recklessly. 

_"I can't,"_ she sobbed, "I can't tell you." 

"Please," he pleaded, walking forward from his place in the room to try to console her, "you can trust me, Liz." 

"I know I can," she seemed to be calming down a bit. She took a few more moments to build her resolve before she spoke again. 

"When Asura ran his longsword through Deimos, _he died._ Lord Death denies this, but I was there, Soul. He stopped breathing and his heart stopped beating; is that not what death is? I may be a stupid woman, but I know this to be a fact." 

"You are far from stupid," he scolded, he hated it when she talked of herself like that. 

"That may be true, but Lord Death takes me for a fool. He thinks he can lie through his teeth and that I will accept it all. But there's nothing that I can do. To oppose a king is one thing, to oppose Lord Death is another thing entirely," she ran her fingers through strands of long, golden hair. 

"You're right," he didn't know what else to say. The knight could barely even believe what he was hearing. He'd just saw Deimos less than an hour ago, and the man looked about as lively as someone who'd been stabbed not even two weeks prior possibly could. He walked, talked and smiled perfectly fine; unlike some of the other unfortunate victims of reanimation that he had the displeasure of meeting in the past. He decided he'd bring this up to Liz, to try to ease her troubled mind. He pretended not to notice as more tears stained her face. 

"Deimos looked fine when I saw him, though. He didn't look sluggish or stunted, save for the cane. As lively as ever, I'd go as far as saying." 

She looked away, a sign bad news was coming, "His body has not changed, but something is different. Deimos has always been a little neurotic, bordering on depressing, but it's gotten so much worse," she paused for a moment, gathering her will to say what has been pressing on her mind for what seemed like so long, "It's like there's a void in him. He's not sleeping right; not eating right. His insistent need for order is like I've never seen it before. I'm afraid for him, if I'm being honest with myself." 

Soul always had known the prince to be a little strange, so he believed every word Liz had said to him. He had a strong faith that she knew her husband well enough to see even minute changes in him. The knight didn't know what to say, however. 

"Our discussion does not leave this room under _any circumstances,_ Soul," she'd stopped crying, thank God, "even your partner is not to know. He is only to know that his mission is to help defeat Lady Arachne and kill the traitor Asura, when the time comes." 

He'd forgotten all about Black Star, and inwardly prayed that the man stayed where Soul had left him. God only knows what kind of trouble the man could get himself into if he pulled his normal antics in Death's castle.

"You know you can count on me to keep a secret, Liz," she stood and walked closer to him, pulling him into a tight hug. He didn't realize just how much he missed her until that very moment. It felt like being reunited with a lost sibling, and he was glad that even in spite of the terrible news, he could feel the joy of speaking with Liz in person again. 

"I missed you," he knew just how to cheer Liz up, and making her feel like the big sister she was to him was a sure-fire way of doing just that.

"I know," she smiled, "now you go and do whatever it is you see fit to start your quest well. I must go and tend to Deimos." 

He left her, intent to make sure Black Star wasn't running amuck and causing trouble where he shouldn't be. That was, until he ran into Makika Alabarn. She looked breathless and tired, like she'd just been running. She'd changed quite a bit since the last time he'd seen her, too. Her sandy blonde hair, that she kept in twin braids just like he remembered, had grown longer and brighter. Her green eyes had a bright, mischievous light behind them that the knight was unfamiliar with. She wore a breath-taking, rich red and black trimmed dress befitting a lady of high society. He never knew her to wear dresses, unlike many women of her time, and was surprised to see her walking around in one. 

It took her a moment to catch sight of him, but when she did her face brightened and she smiled; butterflies awoke in the knight's stomach, he tried to suppress them to no avail. She'd grown to be even more beautiful than he remembered. 

"Solomon Evans, is that you? You've gotten so much taller," she laughed, he'd almost forgotten how much she loved to tease his previously short stature, "I haven't seen you in _years!_ No one told me you were coming to the prince's aid. What a pleasant surprise."   
  
What a 'pleasant' surprise indeed, "I'm the best swinger of a sword in all the land, so it's hardly a surprise Lord Death would think to call upon me," he knew that sounded much more like such a thing Black Star would say, but he loved to press her buttons. When they were children she was so terribly short tempered; he wondered if she remained that way. 

"You and your ego, haven't changed a bit," she rolled her eyes and threw a braid over one slim shoulder. 

"You know it," he smiled, trying not to bear his sharp teeth.

"Any how, we can catch up later. I mustn't let my father see me talking with you; he is in quite the foul mood. So terribly upset that no gentleman caught that fickle, fickle cat this afternoon," she winked at him, and his heart was set aflame. What an interesting woman Alabarn had come to be. 

Maybe he should try his hand in taming that cat, too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, one more down! Not a long one, but you know me. Update coming on Just What I Needed this week. Stay tuned friends : )

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm going to be working on this along with my existing work and a few other ideas I have cooking up. Stay tuned : )


End file.
